


Your Friendly Neighborhood...

by Accidentallytechohazardous



Category: Bleach
Genre: Crime Fighting, M/M, Weird Biology, i guess, spider-man au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 00:05:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17477525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidentallytechohazardous/pseuds/Accidentallytechohazardous
Summary: Six years ago, Shuuhei Hisagi was bitten by a radioactive spider. And ever since then he has loved being the one– the only– the Amazing Spider-Man.It’s actually not nearly as simple as that. For one thing, Shuuhei has a certain two stubborn sidekicks swinging around at all times.Alternative Title: Never Talk To Me or My Boyfriend or My Boyfriend’s Boyfriend or My Boyfriend’s Symbiote or My Boyfriend’s Boyfriend’s Symbiote Ever Again





	Your Friendly Neighborhood...

It’s a beautiful evening in the city. Smoggy. Cold. There’s a little flicker-flutter of pollution-filled snow that falls on the concrete buildings like ash. The city is not exactly scary, but it’s not warm and welcoming either. And Shuuhei has seen enough bad sides of it for his hair to turn gray. **  
**

(Well. Gray-er. But what he finds on his comb in the bathroom is between himself and his head. Thanks for noticing.)

Shuuhei finds it hard to concentrate on dinner, his eyes only half on his fancy, expensive flatbread and inexpensive glass of wine. It’s difficult enough for Shuuhei to focus when Renji snaps his fingers in front of his face.

“Shuuhei, you got cheese on your face. You’re pizza-face.”

“Cute.” Izuru watches Renji lean over and dab at Shuuhei’s face with a napkin while he recoils away like a surly child. His blue eyes bear into him. “Are you having trouble concentrating, Shuuhei? If you need to step out for some air, we can grab the check and go.”

“But, Izuru, what could Shuuhei possibly be distracted by?” Renji smirks. “It’s a perfectly peaceful night in Tokyo, as per usual. “

At that moment, a police siren roaring down the street outside cuts through the the quiet restaurant din. Sitting with his back to the window, Shuuhei sees Renji and Izuru across from him painted with red and blue lights.

In this restaurant, filled with people going about their regular evening and trying to spend time with their families or loved ones, a wave of murmurs circle around the room. Things like that aren’t supposed to happen in Tokyo, but every day the world gets a little scarier. Renji and Izuru just watch the police cars go by over Shuuhei’s shoulders with vague interest.

“Oops, spoke too soon.” Izuru cranes to get a better view. “I wonder what’s going on. A high-speed chase? Armored car-robbery, perhaps? I sure home some dashing hero will swoop in, one with a heart full of justice and a clingy skin-tight suit–”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Now, he’s certainly regretful to leave a meal, let alone a date. But Shuuhei stands up and adjusts his coat. “How about I meet you guys at home. I’ll treat the next night out.”

Renji’s inked eyebrow rise as he pushes his plate away. With his red hair and black jacket glowing in scarlet lights from the window, he looks nearly devilish. The colors flicker off his pearly white teeth. “You’re kidding, right? We’re obviously gonna go with you.”

“No, I’ll wrap this up quick.” Shuuhei tries to sound firm, pulling on his coat. He’s a dedicated reporter, after all. If Spiderman is going to show up on the scene, then of course Shuuhei has be there to catch the scoop. Everybody knows that.

He has a remarkable talent for always being on the scene to catch the scoop.

 

Shuuhei wears most of his suit underneath his clothing, so he can duck into any alley and ditch his civies in a place that only he can reach and come for it later. His mask is never far from his grasp. Every day, Shuuhei pats down his person before leaving the house to make sure he has everything. Phone? Keys? Wallet? Secret identity?

His suit is mostly black, with accents of cool neon blue and streaks of white. Yeah. What were you expecting? He’s not exactly a ‘primary colors’ kind of guy. But honestly? Sling-shotting himself down the streets of Tokyo at 90 mph and catching a glimpse of himself in a mirrored window, the effect of his blue and white standing out against the black is honestly breathtaking.

He loves being Spider-Man. He loves saving people and bringing at least a little sliver of peace to the city in a way that only he can. And sure, he could do without getting punched in the face so much. Or being endlessly mocked on TV and the internet. And how expensive it is to pay for web fluid materials. And the fact that he can never, ever, ever catch a break even once.

But come on, right? He’s a superhero! That’s sick as hell.

He flings himself with practiced grace from one sky-scraper to another. He doesn’t think anymore about how absolutely bat-shit terrifying it is to swing himself faster than any human being should be capable of going, like a lanky human cannonball. It’s just something he does now, watching people and cars so far below him that they look– well. They look like insects.

Shuuhei doesn’t worry about if he will complete his mid-air flip. If his next web-shot will find solid purchase on that roof fixture, or if he will turn his body with enough acrobatic finesse. He just does it, because he’s been doing it for six years and the learning curve has been  _steep._

He’s talking about a certain hurtful #SpidermanFails. Yeah, he’s definitely glad he decided to be one of those masked vigilantes instead of one of the absolute fools who decide to go public with their civilian identity.

They always act like they have such a moral high ground.  _Oh, look at me! I don’t have a secret identity, I’m a full-time superhero! Nobody will rent me an apartment because supervillains keep finding my location on Twitter!_  Grow up.

Where was he?

Right. Knowing the streets from a spider’s-eye-view as he does, Shuuhei quickly catches up with the police chase. An armored vehicle bullies its way down the street, clipping and bumping through normal cars while a fleet of police cars scramble behind them, so he has to give Izuru a gold-star for his prediction.

This is an easy enough fix. Shuuhei brings himself low, real low over the street. The closer he gets, the more overwhelming all of the lights and noises are, but it’s necessary to power through. On the next upswing, he twists his body into a circular arc and, when the opportunity is ideal, he aims his wrist and sends another web-shot onto the roof of one of the the armored cars.

He always wonders what the people driving the vehicles think when Shuuhei lands on the roof with a loud ‘thump’. Are they like ‘ _Well, it’s gotta be Spider-Man! We are doing a crime after all. Shoulda’ expected that.’_

Sticking himself to the outside of the car, Shuuhei scoots himself towards the front. He crawls on his belly, hands and feet in a way that feels somehow both very inhumane and yet very natural, flattening himself against the wind resistance.

Okay. He has the car now. Cool. How is he gonna get this bad boy to a stop without causing a major pileup right before rush-hour?

He hops onto the roof of the car and looks in through the windshield. A crew of men in white masks stare back at him.

Shuuhei taps on the windshield, not sure if they can hear him from inside but always ready to be pleasantly surprised. “I don’t wanna freak you out or anything, but your blinker has been on for the past 8 blocks.”

Renji says that superheros are supposed to do snappy one-liners and say charming, funny stuff. That’s how people like and trust them. Shuuhei still thinks he’s getting the hang of it.

The car swerves suddenly, trying to shake Shuuhei off. Yeah, good luck with that one, guys. The best they’re gonna do is give him a migraine, and that only pisses him off more.

He climbs over the hood to the front, until he’s practically sitting sideways on the grill of the truck. This is so unbelievably dangerous. With barely a flourish of his hands, Shuuhei sends two webshots on either side of him to latch onto the buildings walling in this narrow street.

 

Concern 1: The webs will not be able to withhold the force of large, speeding car.

Counterpoint 1: Shuuhei’s web-fluid is lightweight, but compact and powerful. He’s been able to suspend steel girders with this stuff, fer christssakes. Also he has a degree in chemical engineering and he doesn’t handle failure well, so if this stuff doesn’t hold he’s gonna be mad about it.

Concern 2: Shuuhei’s arms will not be able to withhold the force of a large, speeding car and will be ripped asunder from his body.

Counterpoint 2: He Strong.

 

Shuuhei feels tension go up his webs and into his arms as the car pushes against the force trying to tether it to a fixed point, but he firms his resolve. It hurts, like it might actually yank his arms from their sockets, but eventually the car is unable to go further from this leash of glue and science that Shuuhei has crafted.

He makes sure the webs are sufficiently attached to the vehicle, so it won’t be going anywhere for a while. Just flip off into the night and leave the rest for the pigs to take care of, because like hell is Shuuhei gonna wait around for police questioning or to be taken into custody himself. Spider-Man says not to trust cops, kids.

He hears a heavy, metal click. Shuuhei turns around to see one of the robbers leveling a gun at his head.

“On the ground, freak.”

Shuuhei folds his arms over his chest, making sure his posture is very disappointed. “Did you know it’s illegal for a citizen to have a gun in Japan? It’s why we have such a low rate of gun-related crime.” Crime-fighting should also be educational.

Spider-Man is a lot of things. Super-strong. Super-athletic. Super-handsome. But super-bullet-proof is not one of them. But Shuuhei isn’t super-worried.

Because at that moment, a spiral of black tendrils reaches out of the darkness like jungle vines and drags the assailant, gun and all, screaming into an alley. The rest of his gang kind of watches in delayed shock until two eyes, perfectly white and narrowed into vicious little slits, opens up the darkness.

All Shuuhei sees is a shiny, shimmery flash of Renji’s black carapace before Venom barrels in.

He’s huge, devastating big. The light catches on his oil-slick skin as Venom swings his swollen, tree-trunk arm and the black tendons stretch and extend outwards like a whip. In one graceless move, Renji knocks down the pack of grown men with guns like they were bowling pins.

Renji rushes in. And Shuuhei can see a flash of a long, pink tongue hanging out of a mouth full of sharp teeth, each one easily as long as Shuuhei’s index finger. It lolls out of his enormous mouth like an excited puppy, and Shuuhei realizes that Renji is smiling. He’s having fun.

“I told you I had this handled.” Shuuhei admonishes, once the gun-fire and shrill screaming as quieted to a reasonable degree. He’s still crouched on the hood of the car. Since he got his powers, it’s always been more comfortable for Shuuhei to kind of squat down on all fours. He’s extra-bendy.

Renji bothers to look up to where he has a man’s entire head held in his fist. The web of his Symbiote skin inches and tastes robber’s skin, his fear. Venom’s white gaze looks over at Shuuhei.

“You always get to have all the fun.” That voice definitely isn’t Renji. It’s inhumanely low, a smug growl of something alien. But yeah, that’s Renji for you. “We got bored and figured we’d help out.”

“Yeah? Where’s your little friend?” Shuuhei glances around for Izuru, but something cuts him short.

Police sirens. Tokyo’s finest finally catches up, three police cars coming to an urgent stop barely six feet away from the armored car.

Oh boy. Better turn on the ol’ Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man charm. Shuuhei stands up on his feet and lifts his hand in a salute. “Officers.”

They courteously respond by filing out of their cars and introducing Shuuhei and Renji to the barrel of their guns. “Get down on the ground!” Didn’t they just see how that played out?

Renji’s huge, shark-like face contorts into a sneer, and he hisses. Shuuhei eyeballs Renji as best he can from behind his bug-eyed mask. “Don’t eat those.”

There is a slight possibility that they may perhaps have a mild issue. Until two red, wiry limbs appear under middle police car and wrap around it’s exterior. Shuuhei watches as the car lifts up, off the ground entirely, hovering for half a second in Izuru’s grip before flipping over onto the other vehicle.

Predictably, the cops were not expecting this. They scramble in disarray, either to avoid being crushed or to signal for backup. Shuuhei feels the armored car he’s perched on shudder as Carnage lands on the hood. He’s the color of dry blood, Izuru looks down at Shuuhei with those same white eyes that Renji grinned with earlier.

Shuuhei wants to scold him– he doesn’t need to give the public any more reason to think he’s a criminal himself. Anyways, Spider-Man isn’t officially aligned with the Symbiotes, so this is very bad for his brand.

But he leaves it for later, because they’re on a time-frame. Anyways, he doesn’t have a chance, because Izuru pushes his powerful limbs off of the car and onto the wall of a nearby building, where he sticks perfectly and scrambles up to the roof and out of sight like the little spider that he is.

Renji sees that it’s time to make their escape and follows suit. His claws spread out all inky and sticky to carry his huge body off the ground and out of sight.

Which of course, leaves Shuuhei. Who sighs and sends a web way, way above him and prepares to launch himself back into the sky where he belongs.

All in a night’s work.

**NAME: SHUUHEI HISAGI. AKA; THE SPIDER-MAN**

**SPECIES: HUMAN (MUTATE)**

**ABILITIES: SUPERHUMAN SPEED, STRENGTH, AGILITY, DURABILITY. PRECOGNITIVE SPIDER-SENSES. HIGH INTELLECT CAPABLE OF INVENTING HIS OWN WEB-SLINGING DEVICES.**

**AFFILIATION: SELF-PROCLAIMED SUPERHERO**

**OBSERVED TRAITS: PUBLIC DEFENDER. BRAVE. ACTS NOW AND ASKS QUESTIONS LATER.**

 

Shuuhei’s apartment is always trashed. It bothers him, because once upon a time he was a neat person. He’d love to just blast some Marie Kondo and scrub this whole place top to bottom. But these days it’s enough to just get up, go to work by day, and jump all around Tokyo by night.

Not to mention, his two housemates leave the place almost more wrecked than he does.

He’s not just talking about Renji’s clumps of red hair in the shower drain, or that Izuru likes to strip and leave his clothes lying on the floor whenever he wants. Shuuhei means that the two of them  _eat_. They eat even more than Shuuhei does, and Shuuhei is already loading up on/burning more calories with his exciting lifestyle than an Olympic athlete does.

Because, as Renji puts it, he and Izuru are both each ‘eating for two’. They blame the Symbiotes for constantly cleaning out the fridge, producing empty take-out containers and pizza boxes.

The only dysfunctional thing Shuuhei does by comparison is sleep. He sleeps all the time. He loves sleeping.

His spider-senses wake him up most of the time. It’s a little tickle in his brain, Shuuhei thinks it must be some new kind of alert system that connects his nervous system to his subconscious in order to read cues in his environment that his conscious brain is too busy or too stupid to read.

It wakes him up in the middle of the night, staring blearily at the bedroom ceiling and having a new opportunity to count his many bruises. It’s such bullshit that he doesn’t have a superhuman healing factor.

Soon, Shuuhei realizes what his subconscious brain had been alerted by. He hears something thumping around in the outside hallway, and he knows what it must be like to be a cat-owner and wake up to your pet doing some inane bullshit in the middle of the night.

Which one is it? Shuuhei looks to his side and sees the slender shape of Izuru, curled up on himself in such a way that it should be uncomfortable. He’s clinging to Shuuhei’s arm, soft cheek pressed into Shuuhei’s shoulder.

There’s no sign of Carnage anywhere. Shuuhei has noticed that Izuru’s scarlet Symbiote is excitable, but bored easily. He’s quick to get Izuru riled up, but if it’s human host is calmed down then the little parasite keeps to himself, buried deeply within Izuru until it’s time to feed or fight or fuck.

Shuuhei is reluctant to pull himself away from Izuru’s grasp. But he’s sure that the blond will be just as happy when Shuuhei comes back to his spot.

 

There’s no reason for Shuuhei to be stealthing around his own apartment, it’s really just his instinct to do so. He creeps around, using his abnormal dexterity and quickness to avoid making even the slightest noise. However, there’s nothing to disguise his scent, so Shuuhei is sure that Renji can sense him stalking through their home a mile away.

Renji is right where Shuuhei expected him to be. Sitting on the floor in front of the open refrigerator. Renji’s broad shoulders block out the white light from inside the fridge, his hair hangs loose down his back, while he sits criss-cross and reaches in and digs through a package of shrimp, raw and with the shells still on, and scoops out a handful to shove into his face.

There’s this horrible, wet, crunching sound as Renji eats. Like Shuuhei said, Symbiotes love to fucking eat. But Venom seems to have a special zeal for it. Truly a connoisseur of leeching extra-terrestrials.

“Wassup.” Shuuhei says by way of greeting.

“Hey.” Renji turns to look at him, craning his face around. There’s pinkish juice dripping down his lips and chin. His eyes are the marble-white of a Symbiote, cloudy and looking into forever. The black tattoos across Renji’s brow and down his neck are longer, veinier than they usually are. They reach across his skin, like they’re trying to swallow Renji entirely.

Shuuhei feels bad for interrupting. Renji looks embarrassed to be caught sitting on the floor, alien-ing out with a face full of cocktail shrimp. “Just grabbing a midnight snack.”

Yup. This is normal. Shuuhei leans against the kitchen cabinets. He’s wearing Godzilla pajama pants. “You want me to make you something?”

Renji’s shoulders shrug. “You don’t have to. It doesn’t make a difference whether what I eat is cooked or not. He loves to eat garbage.”

“That’s… pretty nasty.” Shuuhei admits. “I’m making you some real food.”

Renji wipes shrimp juice off with his forearm, and Shuuhei can see the tint of black wires under his skin. Just because he’s the vehicle for an ungrateful little alien shit doesn’t mean he has to eat like one.

 

**NAME: RENJI ABARAI. AKA; TRUE VENOM**

**SPECIES: HUMAN/SYMBIOTE**

**ABILITIES: SYMBIOTE-BONDED. SUPER STRENGTH, SPEED. ADVANCED HEALING FACTOR. LIMITED SHAPE-SHIFTING. ADVANCED DIGESTIVE SYSTEM.**

**AFFILIATIONS: UNKNOWN.**

**OBSERVED TRAITS: AGGRESSIVE. CHAOTIC. MAKES A BIG MESS WHEREVER HE GOES.**

 

Despite Renji’s prideful protests, Shuuhei insists on throwing a plate of frozen pizza-bagels in the microwave. He watches it spin lazily in the Heat Cube while Renji stares over his shoulder. Renji’s arms wrap around Shuuhei’s midsection, craning down so he can rest his chin on Shuuhei’s shoulder.

Renji is so warm. He has a comforting smell, and, like Izuru, he likes to cling to Shuuhei like he’s a favorite teddy bear. Once you peel back his attitude, Renji is as sweet as a cupcake, and Shuuhei has always known this.

The black tattoos on Renji’s arms writhe, like black snakes trying to crawl off of his biceps. They reach out slowly, as if Shuuhei won’t notice. Won’t see them subtly touch him, brushing against his arms and trying to wriggle under Shuuhei’s shirt.

It is scary, Shuuhei has to admit, to know that Venom is always going to be there. That there isn’t just something inside Renji, but some _one_. Someone who, if left unchecked, would have no problem eating the heads off of people like breaking apart an animal cracker.

“He likes you, y’know.” Renji says, as if reading Shuuhei’s mind. “He talks about you a lot.”

It’s also frustrating to know that Renji is carrying on a conversation about Shuuhei in his head. Renji and Izuru both talk about hearing their Symbiotes’ ‘voices’. The line between host and passenger is one that Shuuhei still struggles to grasp.

“What is he like?” Shuuhei wonders, and rubs his thumb over Renji’s wrist.

Renji hums as he thinks, chuffing air into Shuuhei’s ear. “He’s chatty.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He’s curious about everything, and he’s  _always_ got an opinion. He never shuts up!” Shuuhei can practically hear Renji rolling his eyes. He reaches behind himself to stroke his finger through Renji’s soft hair. Maybe Renji and Venom really are a match made in heaven.

“And,” Renji adds hesitantly. Not really sure if he should actually say what’s going to come out of his mouth. “He’s not a bad guy. I mean, there are some severe cultural differences between humans and Symbiotes, obviously. I had to explain to him why we can’t just eat people who are annoying or why it’s necessary to wear pants. But he’s learning. He’s always excited to learn.”

There’s a lot to unpack there. And Shuuhei’s 4 AM brain that has to get ready for work in 3 hours is not in a state to process it. But in Shuuhei’s sleep-addled mind he realizes that he like Venom. And he loves Renji. And on some level, Renji and Venom do occupy the same brain and body. So. Like. Yeah.

“I always figured that if you liked him, he had to be good deep down.” Shuuhei admits.

Renji kisses the top of his head. He hears a reptilian purr from inside the redhead’s throat.

 

Superpowered sex is amazing. Your suspicions are correct.

Shuuhei is so flexible that it’s almost like his joints aren’t even connected. And he’s so durable that his body can take a lot of punishment before it even registers. Like, he’s never sucked his own dick, but he could if he wanted to.

Renji and Izuru, with their alien-enhanced bodies, have the stamina to literally go all night long and probably all day.

The thing is that in order to fuck Renji and Izuru, Venom and Carnage kind of have to be included. Because they don’t like being left out. It took some getting used to, but Shuuhei thinks that he’s become comfortable with the situation. His only hang-up was that the Symbiotes need know they have to wait for an invitation before they can… explore various nooks and crannies.

Shuuhei could try to explain what it’s like to have two aliens up his ass and playing Pong with his prostate, but some experiences are better off either being lived in person or left to the human imagination.

 

It’s not easy being three super-being living under the same roof. At least Renji and Izuru’s physical evidence of their alter-egos live inside their bodies. Not a day goes by that Shuuhei doesn’t open Twitter and secretly expect to find some freak caught a pic of him in his apartment changing into his Spider-Man suit, with his secret identity exposed and his whole ass out.

It hasn’t happened yet, if you were wondering.

At the same time, Shuuhei wonders if people in his regular life would treat him with more respect if they knew he was constantly putting his ass on the line to protect strangers.

Like his neighbors, for example. Shuuhei’s neighbors are assholes.

It’s 1-goddamn-PM on a Sunday afternoon. Shuuhei is enjoying some rare, sweet alone time in his bathtub with a book and a glass of Merlot because he is an adult. And wouldn’t you know it, it must be the perfect time for the upstairs neighbors to blast some deep, heavy bass loud enough that it feels like his whole apartment is going to fall to pieces.

A dick move, but not big enough of a dick move to ruin Shuuhei’s Sunday. But it’s not just Shuuhei’s own sanity that he has to be concerned about. He puts his book aside and empties the tub, then wraps a threadbare towel around his waist.

Renji works on Sundays, so that’s good. But an animal-shriek ripping through the hallway speeds Shuuhei’s arrival to the living room.

The Symbiotes hate noise of a certain decibel. Something about it just really freaks them out, like a dog confronted with a vacuum cleaner. No more heavy metal concerts for Renji or Izuru.

Izuru has his hands over his ears, eyes squeezed shut and red fluid flashing under his pale skin. Shuuhei reaches to grab his shoulder but Izuru chooses that moment to curl his legs under his body and jump onto the ceiling, his shoulders tight together under his shift.

It’s rare to see Izuru truly angry. And that’s with Izuru also not being the best at hiding his emotions. 

He’s never been the ‘suffer in silence’ kind of guy. He gets morose or sulky, and then he wants you to really know about it. Or, otherwise, he’s happy and he wants to cuddle up to you and attach himself to you like an octopus.

But Carnage is different. He and Izuru aren’t on the same wavelength, the way that Renji and his Venom seem to be. Carnage is rage, and viciousness, and unhinged in a way that makes Venom, as huge and terrifying as he is, seem docile in comparison.

Izuru has a red, hateful look in his eyes as he pulls his fist back and slams it into the ceiling. Drywall crunches loudly under his knuckles, leaving a dusty crater. Gonna take a hell of a lot of Mighty Putty to put that bitch back together.

Shuuhei (The Naked and Afraid™ version) is reduced to grabbing the nearest object (a broom) and swatting Izuru with the bristled end. It doesn’t do much except grab Izuru’s attention, and that’s all he needs for Izuru to regain his senses and drop to the floor with an anticlimactic thud.

“Ow.”

 

Shuuhei easily scoops Izuru up in his arms, hoisting Izuru onto his hip while the blond clings to him and sinks his nails into Shuuhei’s bare skin like a started cat.

He carries Izuru away from the living room and into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him with his foot until the ear-splitting pounding is reduced to a distant rumble.

Izuru still doesn’t calm down for a while, preferring to be held. Shuuhei sits on the edge of the bed and adjusts Izuru in his lap. He rubs Izuru’s back, and Izuru cuddles against Shuuhei’s chest. Carnage’s red little claws still lightly scrape over his skin, wanting to feel him. Wanting his comfort.

“Sorry.” Izuru mutters into Shuuhei’s neck.

“Don’t worry about it.” Shuuhei says. “Do you want the noise-canceling headphones?”

“No, it’s okay now. We just got too excited.”

 

**NAME: IZURU KIRA. AKA; TOTAL CARNAGE**

**SPECIES: HUMAN/SYMBIOTE**

**ABILITIES: SYMBIOTE-BONDED. SUPER STRENGTH, SPEED. ADVANCED HEALING FACTOR. LIMITED SHAPE-SHIFTING. ADVANCED DIGESTIVE SYSTEM.**

**AFFILIATIONS: UNKNOWN.**

**OBSERVED TRAITS: SADISTIC. INSIDIOUS. PLAYS WITH HIS PREY.**

 

Since the conversation with Renji, Shuuhei has had this burning curiosity. He pulls Izuru against his bare chest and works on ignoring the draft in this room.

“What is Carnage like?”

Izuru doesn’t answer at first. Maybe he’s still too freaked out from earlier. Shuuhei almost says “Forget about it-”

“He sucks.”

Izuru’s nose wrinkles. His blue eyes flatten and narrow at nothing. The pinkish veins under his cheeks and around his eyes flush. “He’s cruel, and annoying, and honestly he’s got a really sick sense of humor. I wish he could be more like Venom.”

Well. Shuuhei wasn’t expecting that.

Regaining control, Izuru sits up in Shuuhei’s lap. He makes himself comfortable, sitting on the dark-haired man’s thighs and perching there. “But I’m used to him by now. I don’t think he’s ever really going to change, but it’s easy for me to get him to focus on things that benefit us mutually. He gets bored easily, I think, so he’s kind of a hedonist and is really reward-focused.”

“I bet he doesn’t like that you’re saying that right now.”

“No, but what’s he gonna do about it?” Izuru sets his narrow jaw stubbornly. “He needs me to survive, so we’re both going to have to deal with our rotten personalities.”

Shuuhei’s not sure how to tell Izuru that he’s not rotten without sounding patronizing. And he certainly can’t tell him that he loves all parts of Izuru, even the part that’s a weird violent alien.

He settles for pulling Izuru towards him, leaning in and giving Izuru a hard love-bite on the shoulder, one that should color and bruise the way that Izuru likes it. He writhes with delight in Shuuhei’s grasp, and even Carnage tries to reach out and embrace him.

Shuuhei doesn’t think either Izuru or Carnage are really as bad as the other thinks they are.

 

Shuuhei doesn’t go on vacation, ever. Even when he takes time off of work, it’s so he can spend more time at his moonlight-job. Leaping across the city. Swinging into danger. And, hopefully, leaving things a little bit better than he found it. Giving people some hope that someone will be watching out for them. That a good person helps good people.

Izuru will be elsewhere in the bowels of the city, almost out of sight and out of mind. He’ll move without being seen, attack without ever being caught. He’s a different kind of hope. The secret kind of hope that everyone has, that bad people will be punished with bad things.

Renji is also down there, noisy and proud. Scaring away the bad people that might otherwise try to cross Shuuhei and Izuru. He’s all teeth and spit, leaving the innocent and haunting the villainous.

They’re three species of spiders. Three parts of a whole ecosystem. Spider-Man works alone, but there’s no rule saying that he can’t have friends.

Alright, fine. Spider-Man doesn’t have a team, but Shuuhei Hisagi does.


End file.
